Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 438: Justice League Springs Into Action

Arthur gripped the ship-in-a-bottle, watching it bob inside, and old memories tugged at him.

As a kid, he'd gone to sea with his dad countless times on their little sailboat.

One bright morning, they'd hit a bay where his dad fished to make ends meet.

A lighthouse keeper's paycheck didn't cut it for a wife and kid.

Aquaman's mom might've been Atlantis's queen underwater, but topside? A jobless drifter with no legal ID.

Little Arthur was nearing school age—cash was tight.

Living by the sea, the sea was their fix.

"Dad, look! A new bay over there!"

Arthur perched at the bow, pointing at a golden stretch of water, yelling to his dad with glee.

His father, steering to dock, just shook his head. "We've fished here before. It's just the sunlight making it look different—not new."

Arthur deflated a bit, staring at the water below the bow. Golden ripples lit his face.

"I wanna be like the old sailors—ones who didn't know what they'd find."

His dad ruffled his hair, knowing it was just a kid's dream.

Lighthouse keeper, fisherman, sailor—he wasn't raising Arthur for innovation or artsy vibes.

He stuck to facts.

"Our oceans only go so far, Arthur. It's all charted now—no unknown waters left. Truth is, Earth's got no surprises for humans anymore."

Mid-sentence, Arthur's powers kicked in.

He wanted an unknown sea. He spoke to the ocean—and countless fish answered.

Whales, dolphins, sharks, turtles swirled around their boat, spinning underwater, welcoming an Atlantean prince, the sea's son.

Arthur didn't get it then—just pointed at the big fish, hollering for his dad to look.

"Dad, we've got fish! Can't we still find unknown waters?"

But his dad knew—ever since picking up his mom off the shore years back. Arthur was showing Atlantean traits now.

No nets went down. Fishing with Arthur was off the table—those fish weren't for catching.

He didn't answer Arthur's question. Arthur never got one from him again.

The invisible jet's landing jolt snapped him back. The touchdown wobbled—the ice underfoot wasn't solid.

Diana leapt out, scanning the frigid scene in the wind.

Odd circular marks dotted the area—like giant cylindrical ice chunks had been yanked out, leaving pits.

Firestorm chimed in, "I'll scout from above." He had that tier-two hero vibe—knew to play support with the big dogs.

"It stopped moving," Arthur said, holding the bottle up for Diana.

"We're close. The target's nearby," Diana said, tugging her cape. Her breath fogged the air.

"Poseidon's tricks are old-school. Pirate treasure maps are a cinch—find the island, sure, but which tree hides the chest? That's the slog."

Arthur shrugged. Sailor's kid—he'd played pirate plenty.

He'd seen real treasure maps too. Like Diana said, they marked skulls or bones, but the terrain was always vague.

Firestorm dropped from the sky, hovering. He'd peeked into the pits.

"Guys, this is a ship graveyard—frozen under the ice."

"Here?" Aquaman scratched his beard, breath frosting it. "Antarctica's all ice, but it's a continent, right?"

Firestorm spread his hands—one host was a prof; he wasn't clueless. "I know. Average elevation's 2,350 meters—highest continent on Earth. But here's the deal: either there was an unknown eighth ocean once, or someone dumped these ships here."

Diana nodded. Firestorm's second guess tracked—someone tossed them.

She peered into a pit tens of meters down, a half-wrecked galleon sat in the ice.

If gods wanted ships on Antarctica, they could make it happen. She knew now they were ancient sorcerers, but their power still held.

Poseidon could tsunami or tidal-wave any ship from anywhere to Everest if he felt like it.

With Deathstroke swapping Hecate for the Upside-Down Man, though, Diana couldn't predict the fallout.

Hecate's energy lingered in her—untapped, not reclaimed. She sensed shadows but couldn't wield it yet.

Her divine power? Still there, no cost to use. Weird.

What was this? Magic fused with her blood, so the Upside-Down Man let it slide?

Diana shoved the mess of thoughts aside, zeroing in on the task.

She glanced at Aquaman, scraping ice off his beard, and Firestorm, burning but shedding no heat, then explained the spot.

"I've heard of this place—a legend even to me," she said, touching her ear. "Poseidon supposedly stashed the key to the Tomb of the Gods in an old ship's hull."

Aquaman frowned, ear cocked like he'd misheard. "Tomb of what?"

"The gods—ones truly killed or forgotten. Their underworld," Diana sighed, unsure how to frame it. "I'd bet it's not even in our universe."

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"Wait, I thought gods couldn't die—just their human hosts or whatever," Arthur said, hunching. "Poseidon's really gone?"

Diana rolled her eyes, exasperated. She'd known Mera had it rough, but explaining everything was exhausting.

"They couldn't before, but now? Our enemies have a way to kill gods. Hell, Deathstroke schemed one cosmic concept out of existence, and the Justice League's still spinning its wheels."

Seeing Diana's face, Aquaman zipped it, jamming his trident into the ice and peering into the pits.

"Māori rafts, Nazi subs—they're all here. What're we hunting?"

Firestorm pointed at hundreds more holes. Wonder Woman was sour, but he could clarify. "If I'm right, you're after a ship blending Atlantean and Amazon styles."

Aquaman got it, his rugged face lighting up. "So that weird building we found underwater—Amazon and Atlantean vibes—that was Arian's pad?"

Firestorm smirked. "Actually, that's the starting point for guessing the ship type, but sure, close enough."

Right then, Batman—done with surgery—pinged Aquaman via League comms.

"Arthur, update me."

Arthur eyed the pits—thousands of ships from different eras, buried in ice, needing a dig. Diana's face was zombie-level grim.

"Honestly, Batman, I'm 'in deep ice' right now."

Batman cut the line, deadpan. Arthur picking up idioms? Noted.

Idioms meant Chinese. Chinese meant culture. Culture meant maybe Sun Tzu's Art of War.

Batman deduced Arthur's smarts might spike—he'd prep for that.

Low priority, though. While Deathstroke's crew moved, he hadn't slacked.

He'd pinpointed Lex's crew's base and sent Flash, Superman, and Captain Atom—the "rapid response" squad.

They were at Banda Sea near Indonesia, on a tropical speck called Truth Island.

Once just dense forest and a mountain, something—maybe a lava titan—had erupted from below and died there.

Now molten elemental critters roamed—low-IQ, high-danger, calling themselves the Volcano Clan.

Superman's team was swarmed. Scorching lava sprayed or swung as weapons by the fiery freaks.

Superman smashed some Volcano folk, but more bubbled up from the crater.

"Look, more enemies crawling outta that giant corpse's gut," Superman said, pointing at the volcano-ized titan's belly—crater right at the stomach.

Barry groaned, "That's a gross way to put it."

Batman patched in. "Superman, status."

"Gimme a sec? We're kinda busy," Superman said. Hundreds of molten rock-things had them pinned—had to clear 'em to investigate.

Batman paused. "Fine, I gave you six seconds. Report."

For Superman, Flash, and light-speed cosmic-flyer Atom, that was plenty.

The Volcano Clan was rubble now. The heroes hit the crater's edge, scanning with tech and powers for the Legion of Doom's trail.

Barry scoured the island—nothing obvious to the naked eye. Idle, he answered Batman.

"We're 'buzzing with fire' over here, heh."

Batman squinted. Idioms catching on lately? Weird.